


i don't think i'll ever let you leave

by wwordvomit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Autistic Kozume Kenma, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 05:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwordvomit/pseuds/wwordvomit
Summary: Kuroo had never met another kid like Kenma. This didn’t matter much to Kuroo though. Even when Kenma had off days, or a loud noise stopped them from moving forward, Kuroo was there. Kuroo pushed him forward, and he would never complain about doing so.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	1. a promise

**Author's Note:**

> originally this was just going to be a oneshot until i realized that i had a lot more i wanted to flesh out in this story. im not sure how many chapters itll end up being but my guess is anywhere between 3-4. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy. the second chapter is already in the works & im hoping to get it posted pretty soon.

When Kuroo’s father originally informed him they would be packing up and moving, Kuroo was upset. No, upset would not be putting justice to the wave of emotion that Kuroo felt. While he sat across from his father at the dining table, Kuroo went through three out of the four stages of grief. At first, shock crashed into him much like the tide of the ocean did. Then he would slip into the second stage. He was quick in kicking and screaming, but he came to realize it was no use. His father would not budge. Even after Kuroo cried, which was something he hadn’t even done when he broke his arm. 

Kuroo did not want to move. He liked his home, his friends, his school, and his volleyball team. His father was viciously ripping something important away from his hands before he even had time to react. It was no surprise to anyone that Kuroo felt betrayed, he might’ve even gone far enough to say for a short time he resented his father. 

Now, he was in the third stage. The one that seemed to last much longer than the rest. Kuroo was deeply despaired. Especially as he watched when the neighbourhood he’d grown eight years worth in faded behind them. It disappeared from the rear window of his father’s car as if it had never even been there in the first place. Kuroo only slumped down into the safety of the seat when the passing streets became unrecognizable. They were not ones he had explored with his friends, they had no memory attached to them, no value. Just like the house they were driving to now. 

Kuroo cupped his chin with his hand, watching as the trees flew by the window. A deep sigh escaped him. Hopelessness crept in over him, chilling him to the core. Everything was out of his control, and he had no say in the unfolding events. Kuroo didn’t think it was fair. 

Kuroo’s grandmother must have picked up on his sullen mood. She shifted in the passenger seat, looking back over the shoulder of the seat to smile fondly at her grandson. Grandma was always optimistic. 

“Cheer up Tetsurou! Think of all the new friends you’ll make at your new school!” Usually, grandma had the ability to snap him out of his sour moods just with her cheerful voice. This time, it didn’t work, instead he was quick to avert his eyes from her shiny smile. Kuroo didn’t want new friends. He _liked_ his friends. He _liked_ his school. 

Kuroo did not respond to his grandmother. 

* * *

Kuroo had not settled into his new neighbourhood. His bedroom was bigger than the one at his previous house, which was nice, but this home itself did not feel like his own. Instead, when Kuroo wandered through the house he felt as if he was actually invading someone else’s living space. In addition to this, his school was confusing. At times he found himself getting lost in the unfamiliar hallways. Contrary to what his grandmother said, he had not made any friends. Even after being introduced to his classmates, it made him uncomfortable to talk to the unfamiliar faces. Not many would be able to tell, considering Kuroo’s eccentric personality, but he had a great deal of trouble initially speaking to people. 

The only other kid he had spoken to was right after they had made their mood. Kuroo was forced out of his personal pity party to drag him along to the neighbours house. Apparently his dad worked with the other boy’s mother. That was what Kuroo gathered, while he sheltered himself behind him. When Kuroo finally peaked out from behind, he was met with a pair of golden eyes gaping at him. Only for them to snap away, dancing across the hardwood floor instead. Kuroo couldn’t help but compare the other boy to a cat. Kuroo could feel his eyes burning into him whenever he looked away. Soon he learned that this boy’s name was Kenma, and that they went to the same school. He was a year younger, though, explaining why Kuroo had never seen him. 

On a particularly warm Sunday, Kuroo was perched on one of the kitchen chairs scribbling out answers to his math homework. If he’d been back home, he would have taken advantage of the sun. Kuroo would have found himself in the park, playing tag or soccer with his school friends. This put Kuroo in a sour mood, his lip curling up in an unhappy pout. His grandmother must have picked up on this, one moment she’d been scrubbing away at the dishes, and the next her warm hand was hovering over his shoulder. 

“Tetsurou, why don’t you see if your friends will go to the park with you?” Grandma’s words were soft, bordering a whisper. Kuroo did not look at her, and instead shook his head while his pencil traced over the dark ink printed onto the paper. Kuroo’s grandmother seemed to understand what he really meant, that he had no one to ask, and not that he didn’t want to go out. 

She hummed in consideration for a moment, tapping on her chin. Kuroo assumed she had figured out a solution when a quiet ‘aha!’ left her mouth and her finger was waving in front of his face. 

“Why don’t you go over to see that Kozume boy!” Kuroo blinked up at her in confusion. After their initial meeting, Kuroo hadn’t attempted to see him again. Kenma hadn’t either. Kuroo opened his mouth to protest, but before he could he was being pushed from the chair he’d claimed. 

“Go on!” Kuroo had no time to interject, being ushered out of the door. When his grandmother had managed to get him just outside the door, she smiled fondly at him. Kuroo stood in place, before she shooed him off with her hand. 

Kuroo exhaled sharply, he didn’t have much of a choice now. Kuroo’s shoes dragged across the rough pavement beneath him. Kenma’s house was two doors down from his own, and he was certain his grandma was watching him walk off from the window. Before he knew it, the door was in front of his nose. When the feeling of unease washed through him, he wished for the hundredth time that they could move back. Kuroo’s hand hovered over the door for a moment, considering whether or not he should turn tail or not. The adult’s assumption that the two boys would get along laid purely on the shoulders of their age similarity. 

Kuroo’s hand finally made contact with the door, and it was open wide only moments later. Almost as if the person on the other side was expecting him. Kenma’s mother stood in the doorway, looking down at him. Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, but she had stolen the words right from him before he had a chance to speak. 

“Why hello! I assume you’re here for Kenma? Come in, come in,” Just as suddenly as he had been rushed out of his home, he was brought into the Kozume’s house. His mother waited patiently for Kuroo to remove his shoes. Then he was invited in, and brought to the couch that Kenma was situated on. Mrs. Kozume removed herself with the promise of snacks. 

Kuroo hadn’t even had a chance to breathe, and now he was alone with Kenma. Kenma who hadn’t even turned to look at him, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. Soft clicking sounds came from the controller in his hands. Kuroo did not bother to say hello, instead he made his way over to Kenma and plopped himself on the floor in front of the TV. 

Kuroo sat silently for a while, shifting in place on the carpet below him. The silence made him feel uncomfortable, but the thought of striking conversation made him even more uncomfortable. 

The game was suddenly paused, and Kuroo tilted his head in confusion. From above, a controller plopped into his lap. 

“You can try,” Kenma’s voice was small, and soon he slipped onto the floor beside Kuroo. They still did not share glances, two sets of eyes glued to the flashing screen. Kuroo looked down at the controller at his hands. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

* * *

Kuroo’s friendship with Kenma sprouted when everyone in his household had to be at work, leaving him to sit in the quiet of the house that still felt unknown. When being alone started to weigh on Kuroo, making him fidgety, he would wander to the Kozume household. Kenma’s mother was always happy to invite him in, and after a dozen times she gave him permission to let himself in. Something about the suggestion made Kuroo feel warm inside. No one else had ever given him that kind of privilege. Typically they would find themselves on the couch, Kuroo had never actually seen Kenma’s bedroom. The nights were usually dictated by Kenma, who always wanted to play video games. Kuroo would watch with curiosity, and sometimes Kenma would let him play for a little bit, too. 

What really brought them together was volleyball. Kuroo still wasn’t sure how he’d actually managed to convince ‘I don’t want to move’ Kenma to toss a ball around the park, but he wasn’t going to bring it up and risk Kenma turning around and going home. This was when Kuroo realized that Kenma was highly perceptive. Not just with videogames, but with people, and volleyball plays too. 

This was also when Kuroo realized that he was becoming preceptive, too. At least when it came to Kenma. Kuroo slowly started to notice the differences Kenma had to other kids their age. Kuroo didn’t pay much attention to the behaviours that Kenma exhibited, even if he thought they were a little weird. 

One afternoon, Kenma’s mom had ushered them out the door. She beamed whenever Kuroo brought his volleyball over, knowing that her son would actually get some fresh air for once. The sun had started to set by the time they were done. Kenma was progressively getting better, and Kuroo felt pride heating his body. 

In the yard beside them, Kuroo caught a glimpse of a rather big dog sitting just behind the fence. Kuroo gently pulled on the sleeve of Kenma to draw his attention to said dog. Kuroo knew that Kenma liked cats, so maybe he would feel similarly about another fuzzy friend. Kuroo called out to the dog, who did not come near. Instead its ears pinned back, and it started to bark in their direction. Kuroo let out a huff, turning to walk away from the rude animal. Kuroo was too distracted with the feeling of betrayal to realize Kenma hadn’t been following him. 

“Kenma if you don’t hurry I’m going to leav--” Kuroo’s sentence fell flat in his throat when he turned back to Kenma. Kenma was hunched over on the ground, hands covering his ears. The barks of the dog still echoed through the air as Kuroo knelt down beside him. 

“You don’t like the dog?” Kenma only nodded in response, shutting his eyes tight. Kuroo watched Kenma, taking a moment to consider the situation. Over time Kuroo had picked up on Kenma’s tendency to fiddle with things. Kuroo couldn’t say he understood why, but he had a feeling that it helped Kenma in some way. Today Kenma hadn’t brought anything with him, though. Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows in thought, on how he might safely get Kenma back home. 

With careful deliberation, Kuroo still only managed to come up with one solution. It would have to do.

Kuroo reached over to Kenma, ignoring the flinch he got in response. Gently he would move Kenma’s sweater hood over his hair. It wouldn’t muffle the sound of the dog very much, but it was worth a shot. Kuroo pushed his hands against his knees when he stood, and then offered one to Kenma. 

Kenma’s eyes flickered over the hand offered to him, and hesitantly moved a hand away from his ear to take Kuroo’s. With one quick moment Kuroo hoisted him up, careful not to cause Kenma to topple over. Kenma stood only a few inches away from him, staring down at their hands. Kuroo would keep their hands encased, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Kenma’s eyes met his, probably for the first time too. 

Kuroo only had enough time to flash Kenma a warm smile before his eyes snapped away. Kuroo gave Kenma a gentle pull. Kenma caught his bottom lip between his teeth, taking a few steps in the direction they’d come from. Even when the dog was no longer in sight, they kept their hands pressed firmly together. Kuroo could feel the warmth of Kenma’s palm against his own and his smooth fingertips nudging at the bumps of his knuckles. 

The dog incident was just the start of Kuroo picking up on Kenma’s tendencies. From that day forth Kuroo made sure to avoid dogs, or anything that made loud noises for that matter. He already knew Kenma liked for his hands to stay in motion. When that could not come in the form of his gameboy, Kuroo would offer other solutions. Just like before, if it came down to it Kuroo would offer Kenma his hand. Kenma always took it, letting Kuroo guide him wherever they needed to go. Eventually Kuroo came to recognize that Kenma kept his line of sight downward as much as possible, hiding behind his hair. When someone caught his eye, he was quick to avert his eyes. 

Kuroo also observed that Kenma was a rather picky eater. When he was invited to stay for dinner, he was always served one of the limited meals that Kenma was happy to eat. Kuroo didn’t mind, he thought what Kenma liked was pretty good. 

Kuroo had never met another kid like Kenma. This didn’t matter much to Kuroo though. Even when Kenma had off days, or a loud noise stopped them from moving forward, Kuroo was there. Kuroo pushed him forward, and he would never complain about doing so. 

* * *

Volleyball had boosted Kuroo’s confidence. So much so, that he had started to branch out. After a month of being at his new school, he had finally started to make friends. Friends that wanted to play soccer with him at the park, and invited him over for ice cream after school. Kuroo had finally started to settle in.

“Kuroo!” One of his friends called out to him after the bell sounded, signalling that it was the end of the day, “Come play with us!” 

Kuroo flashed them a toothy grin, collecting his things and stuffing them into his bag without much thought for organization. When his bag slung over his shoulder, he turned to face the group of boys that surrounded him. 

“Sorry, but I can't today,” Kuroo shrugged his shoulders, the strap of his bag falling down to his elbow as he did so. The boys all groaned in unison, pestering him as to why. Through their shoulders, his eyes caught golden orbs narrowed in his direction. They were quick to flutter away, but the figure stood in the same place it had appeared from. Kuroo pushed his way through the boys, making his way to Kenma who was patiently waiting for him, hands shifting inside his pockets. 

Kuroo wiggled his way through the group, feeling their eyes follow him. When he was in arms reach of Kenma, his arm slung over his shoulders. Kenma let out a sound of surprise, but was in no rush to pull himself from Kuroo’s grasp. 

“Gotta go!” Kuroo called behind him, turning to wave his goodbye. Kuroo liked his friends plenty, he really did. They were kind to him. Their faces lit up with excitement when Kuroo entered the classroom in the morning, they would spend lunch with him and talk about cool action movies. There were plenty of things he liked, but there was _one_ thing that Kuroo could not stand about the group of boys he often found himself in. 

Kuroo tried not to let it irritate him, but it still managed to itch at his skin. None of the boys had blatantly commented on anything, or been cruel to Kenma. However, when Kenma was not in their presence they would poke fun at Kuroo. Kuroo didn’t have to investigate to be aware that they found Kenma unordinary. They did not look upon Kenma with the fondness that Kuroo did, and typically poked at Kuroo for an explanation as to why he hung out with Kenma. Everytime he was asked, Kuroo would say, “Kenma is cool”, and was always greeted with an eruption of giggles surrounding him. 

Kenma was a year below them, meaning Kuroo did not witness how Kenma was in his own classroom. He didn’t need to in order to grasp that Kenma would stick to himself, probably doodling video game characters while his peers talked amongst themselves. Kenma did not go out of his way to greet people, or call out to Kuroo when he was waiting. Kuroo may have admitted that Kenma was quite the odd ball, but that didn’t give them any reason to look down upon him. Many nights he would put his mind to work trying to figure out what was so funny about finding Kenma cool. Kenma _was_ cool. 

Despite his peer’s feelings toward Kenma, he would not let this deter him. Kuroo still made plenty of time for his friend. His _best_ friend. Kuroo refused to stop being Kenma’s friend purely on the basis that other kids thought he was weird. 

* * *

  
  


That night Kuroo stayed at the Kozume residence for dinner. Him and Kenma used the living room to indulge in volleyball replays, commenting on the different techniques the players employed. The two glued their eyes to the screen, shoulders pressed together while they gawked with nothing but excitement. Kenma had slowly become more interested in volleyball, even if he wouldn’t admit. Sometimes Kenma would be the one to suggest throwing the ball around. He would play it off like the only reason was to appease Kuroo, and Kuroo wouldn’t pry any further about it. 

When the sun started to set that night, Kuroo said his goodbyes to Kenma and promised he would bring more recordings over. Kenma only nodded at him, already pressing away at the buttons on his gameboy. 

Kuroo had just finished putting his shoes on when Kenma’s mother was behind him in the entryway. Kuroo smiled fondly at her, about to open his mouth to say his thanks for dinner when she stopped him midthought. 

“I have a special favour to ask you sweetheart,” Kuroo tilts his head, a little confused. Then he nods, signalling that he was listening. Mrs. Kozume approached him, leaning down to be on the same level as him. Kuroo followed her hand with his eyes when it was placed on his shoulder. 

“Kenma is a little different from the other kids, and sometimes they aren’t very kind to him about it,” Kuroo looked up at her, staring into the brown eyes he had grown to know so well over the past couple months. He was well aware that kids were not particularly nice to Kenma at times. It made Kuroo ball his fists up, wondering if there had been something that Kenma evaded from him. His curiosity was eating at him, eyes pleasing for Mrs. Kozume to continue. 

“He may not show it, but Kenma has grown quite fond of you. This is why I ask, stick up for Kenma for me, will you?” A smile tugged on Mrs. Kozume’s lips after she spoke. Kuroo stared at her for a moment, mouth ajar. Then he was nodding so furiously we wouldn’t have been surprised if his head rolled off his neck and onto the floor. Kuroo didn’t have to think about this for a second. A gentle hand rested on his head, ruffling hair into a bigger mess than it already had been. 

“Thank you, Kuroo, I know I can count on you.” 

That night, on Kuroo’s way home, he felt warm despite the wind blowing against his skin. He couldn’t help but puff his chest out in pride, grinning wildly. 

Kuroo would stick by Kenma, he would protect him. Just like Kenma would do the same for Kuroo. 

* * *

Mrs. Kozume’s words had attached themselves to Kuroo. He carried them everywhere he went over the years. Without her request, Kuroo still would have carried out her wishes, there was no doubt about that. However, having someone put their trust in Kuroo’s hands filled Kuroo with gratitude. Him and Kenma were still glued to each other’s sides. 

Even with the notion that this would have to change, they had an unspoken agreement that neither would let themselves drift. Change was threatening to friendships, Kuroo knew that well from his initial move. Not with Kenma, though. Kuroo would not let that friendship die. 

It was Kuroo’s last day sharing their middle school with Kenma. The only reminder of their age difference came from moving up grade levels. Kuroo was scheduled to go off to Nekoma High. A decision he’d made after watching them play. At the moment, the Nekoma team wasn’t looking so good. Some might feel deterred by this, but Kuroo saw it as an opportunity. Even if Kenma didn’t quite understand Kuroo’s logic, he’d agreed to follow toe. This meant they only needed to wait a year before they would be roaming the same halls again. Kuroo was optimistic, the absence of Kenma would be sure to damper his mood at times, but a year would fly by in no time. 

Kuroo jogged down the stairs with a certain haste, dropping down multiple steps here and there. Kenma was waiting for him at the front gate. They promised to walk home together, with the intention of spending some time in Kenma’s house. To many people’s surprise, despite Kenma’s lazy aura, he was rather punctual. It was always Kenma waiting on him. 

Kuroo beamed when the sun hit his skin. It was a warm day, perfect for saying his goodbyes to both the school and some of his friends who’d decided on different high schools. Kuroo jogged across the path, weaving in and out of people who were on their way home much like Kuroo was. The front gate was in his line of sight. Kuroo was about to call out to Kenma, but quickly came to a halt. 

A group of his classmates, ones he had claimed to be pretty good friends, stood around in a circle. They all peered between them. Kuroo narrowed his eyes, trying to wrack his brain around what they could have been circled around. Kuroo went to greet them, but the words were caught in his throat when he neared them enough to pick up on what they were saying.

“He’s going to outgrow you, you do know that right? Now that he’s going to high school he won’t even take a second look,” The boys all laughed along to the statement. Kuroo’s insides twisted. He didn’t want to believe his intuition. It made him sick to his stomach to think that he might know exactly who was being trapped between them. 

A shaky breath left him, anger crept over him in a sickening pace. Kuroo didn’t need confirmation to take action. Every fibre in him was hoping he was wrong, that this wasn’t happening. Kuroo’s feet felt heavy while he approached them, like he’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. When he shoved two of the boys aside by the shoulders, they all gawked at him. When Kuroo pushed through them, his stomach sunk. 

Kenma was sitting on the ground in between them, his knees pulled up into his chest. It was abundant that they’d pushed him down, dust covering his uniform. Kuroo felt his jaw clench, his teeth gritting together. Kenma must have felt the mood shift, because his eyes lifted from the ground. When they caught the gaze of Kuroo, his expression didn’t change. Kenma was not upset, he held the same expression he always did. Even if Kenma was not affected by his mistreatment, Kuroo would not accept it. 

Kuroo held a hand out to Kenma, hoisting him up to stand behind him. He must have been holding on too tightly to Kenma’s hand, and he’d only realized that when Kenma winced. Kuroo loosened his grip, but he didn’t let go. 

Kuroo looked around at the gaping faces around him, doing anything in his power to repress the urge to swing at them. He had originally labelled this lot as his friends, but this proved to be a wakeup call. Anyone who disrespected Kenma was not his friend. 

“You’re wrong, I’ve outgrown _you,_ ” Kuroon doesn’t wait for a response from them, swooping down to retrieve Kenma’s bag from the dirt. He was quick to turn his back to them, pushing his way out of their circle with Kenma not far behind him, “Let’s go Kenma,” 

Pleas to wait sounded from behind him, but Kuroo didn’t turn. This was no misunderstanding. Kuroo knew what he saw, and he can only imagine the cruel words they’d said to him before he showed up. He doesn’t want to hear their excuses, this was not something they could come back from.

The two boys walked home in silence, Kuroo leading Kenma home by the hand. Kenma didn’t pull from him, and even squeezed back whenever Kuroo did. Kuroo would always stick up for Kenma. 

It wasn’t until Kenma bent over to untie his shoes in the entryway that Kuroo spoke up. Something was pulling at him in the wrong way, and he couldn’t help but blurt it out.

“Why didn’t you stick up for yourself?” Kuroo cringed at the sound of his own voice, it had come out angrier than he intended it to. Kenma wasn’t affected by it, pushing a stray hair away from his face. 

“It’s not a big deal, Kuro,” 

“Yes it is! How can you be so passive about it! It isn’t fair that they treat you like that, you can’t let them walk all over you--”

“Kuro,” 

“--I’m serious Kenma! If I ever see them doing that again I swear I’ll--”

“ _Kuro,”_ The force behind Kenma’s voice was what brought Kuroo out of his rant. The snap of Kenma’s voice had taken him by surprise. Kenma typically had little emotion behind his voice, it was one of the reasons some people found him so hard to read. Kenma shifted in place, looking over his shoulder at him. For once, Kenma was not looking past Kuroo, or down at his feet. Kenma was looking straight into his eyes, and he wasn’t averting his eyes or hiding behind his hair. 

“Do you want to hang out in my room?” Kenma asked with a tilt of his head. Kuroo felt as if a gust of wind pushed over him, one strong enough to make him stumble in place. All feelings of anger dissipated from him as he kicked his shoes off, running up the stairs behind Kenma to have his first look inside Kenma’s bedroom.

Kuroo hadn’t realized it then, but this simple gesture weighed more than a person might think. Kenma offering his space to Kuroo was an act of trust. Unspoken words telling Kuroo that Kenma was comfortable showing his vulnerability, that Kuroo had significant importance to Kenma. 

Kuroo wasn't sure when he'd originally passed through the last stage of grief, but he had a feeling it was long ago. Perhaps it had been when hung out with Kenma for the first time. His old town had ben far from his mind, and he never looked back when he had Kenma by his side. This neighbourhood started with having no value to Kuroo, now it held all his memories with Kenma. Memories that would continue to form in the years to come. 


	2. confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi again! i hope you enjoy my second chapter featuring my comfort ship. the way things are going i think that the next chapter will be the last. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

The words from Mrs. Kozume that he had enthusiastically agreed to all those years ago followed him throughout the years. When Kenma finally entered middle school alongside him Kuroo encouraged Kenma to join the volleyball team. It took convincing, but Kenma eventually agreed. Kuroo had originally hoped it would encourage him to make more relationships, but he never seemed interested in the other team members. Kuroo didn’t push it, Kenma seemed perfectly happy with Kuroo around. If Kenma was happy, so was Kuroo. 

It was also around this time when Kenma’s mother pulled him aside again. Kuroo was around thirteen at this time, which Mrs. Kozume claimed to be the perfect time to explain the situation to him. She had apologized for not informing him earlier before laying out what she wanted to say. It was a chilly autumn day when Kuroo found out Kenma had been diagnosed with autism at a young age. Kuroo didn’t really know what that meant, he assumed that most twelve-year-olds didn’t. Kenma’s mother seemed relieved when Kuroo shrugged his shoulders and thanked her for telling him. 

The new fact didn’t phase Kuroo in the slightest. Kenma was still Kenma with or without a diagnosis. Sure, when he learned more about what autism really implied it connected some dots that Kuroo had previously held confusion about. All this really meant was that he would have better information on how he could be more of a help to Kenma, and how to properly accommodate for his friend. It was an opportunity to better understand Kenma’s behaviour, and what some things derived from. 

Then highschool crept up on Kuroo before he had time to blink. Things had changed over the years, sitting in his third year he had plenty of time to reflect. His youth was slipping away from him, but he certainly didn’t have any regret about the change that had occurred. One of the best changes, in Kurro’s opinion, was the height he’d stacked within his first two years of highschool. It was a known fact that height created an advantage in volleyball, so he gratefully took the gift genetics had handed him. Though Kenma hadn’t had much of a growth spurt himself, he certainly had plenty of his own changes. One of the most obvious ones being Kenma’s hair, which he’d impulsively bleached. At first he’d shown a degree of regret toward his decision, but with reassurance from Kuroo he’d come to embrace his new look. It looked good, in Kuroo’s opinion of course. 

In the same breath, there was an equal amount of things that had stayed either the exact same, or pretty close to. Kuroo’s love for volleyball, for one, that had been so obvious that their coach decided he’d make the best option for team captain (a position he took great pride in securing). Kenma still hated feeling tired or sweaty, but Kuroo could tell he reserved some positive feelings about the game. Especially when his skill as a setter was recognized. Another reason Kuroo was happy to be captain. 

Kenma’s nose could still be found deep into the newest video game, and his quips were as sharp as ever. Kuroo’s hair was still a mess more often than not. Most importantly, they were still attached by the hip. Their friendship had not fizzled in the slightest, and in many areas had strengthened.

* * *

The sudden thump of a solid object was what jolted Kuroo from his peaceful snooze. The corners of his eyes felt clouded, both from sitting up too fast and being awoken in a rather unpleasant way. The weapon used to wake him, which was a book, slid from his face into his lap. This revealed the culprit of this massacre. This sick criminal might’ve just gotten away with their crime, if it wasn’t for the sickening smile he had on his lips. It was so small someone might’ve missed it, but it was no match for Kuroo’s master deduction skills. This was valuable evidence. 

“Dirty move, Kenma,” Kuroo grumbled, tossing the book back onto the floor where he’d left it previously. Kenma’s eyes did not leave their position, trained on the TV which was still projecting the same game Kuroo had originally fallen asleep to. Kuroo would never complain about Kenma’s focus on a game, rather than his guest (who honestly stopped really being a guest years ago), but that did not prohibit him from taking a nap. 

“Maybe you should sleep in your own bed for once,  _ Kuro, _ ” Kenma says, emphasizing his name for mocking purposes. Kenma may have had a point, if it hadn’t been him who originally invited him to stay. 

Kuroo creeps toward where Kenma is situated on the bed. The jury (Kuroo, and Kuroo only) had deliberated the possible punishments Kenma was currently facing, and had come to a conclusion. Now, he just needed to wait for an opening. Kuroo watched Kenma’s gameplay, strategizing to himself quietly. When Kenma’s game finally flashed ‘game over’ it was time for Kuroo to make his move. 

Kuroo had to move quickly, Kenma was nimble and impressively good at predicting Kuroo’s movements. This criminal could easily evade authority, and law enforcement (which again, was just Kuroo) could not let that happen. Kuroo’s arm wrapped an arm around Kenma’s front, forcing him backward onto the bed. Kenma knew what was coming, scrambling to get away before it was too late. Unfortunately for him, his fate had already been decided. Kuroo was already pinning him down to his bed, and Kenma’s feeble attempt at kicking him off would not stop him. 

“Why do people think you’re the nice one?” Kenma was trapped beneath Kuroo. This criminal had been convicted, and his sentence was about to be served. Over the years of knowing Kenma, Kuroo had gathered an extensive list of facts about his best friend. One of which being that Kenma was extremely ticklish, which proved to be prime blackmail material. Kuroo’s fingers dug into Kenma’s sides, wiggling them all over the parts he knew would send him into tickle induced hysteria. Kenma stared up at him with his cheeks puffed out, eyebrows scrunched in annoyance. Kenma was trying his hardest not to feed into Kuroo’s amusement, but it was no use. Before long Kenma was laughing uncontrollably, desperately trying to swat Kuroo’s hands away from him.

Kuroo may have applied cruel and unusual punishment against Kenma, but torture could only go so far. When Kenma’s laughs came out in strained breaths, Kuroo had decided he’d served his time, he would be let out on good behaviour. Kuroo’s weight was shifted off Kenma, and flopped onto the bed beside him. Kenma curled in on himself, clutching his stomach as a protective barrier from potential future attacks. 

“Go--home--idiot,” Kenma puffed in between his breaths. Kuroo only laughs, draping his arm over his face. Kuroo's chest heaves a little heavier than before, being the tickler took a lot more energy than people realized. Oh well, it was worth it for justice. 

“But you’ll miss me,” Kuroo purrs, flashing the heap that is his best friend, a cocky grin. Kenma only scoffs in reply, turning around to scowl at him. Kuroo catched Kenma’s golden eyes with his own, silence filling the room around them. Somehow this has turned into some strange staring contest, Kuroo isn’t sure what the stakes are in this game. Yet, Kenma is still the first to break. Strained giggles fell from him, his rips probably still ached from the assault. Kuroo doesn’t take time to consider what they could be giggling about when he joins in with Kenma. 

A knock is what interrupts them. Kenma’s mother must have arrived home from work somewhere in between the tickling and the giggling fit. When her face pokes in the door, they both crane their necks to look her way. She looks at them with a familiar expression, the one that attempts to portray disappointment, but is poorly executed. Mostly because she was not, at all, disappointed in them. No matter how much of a racket the two boys ended up making, at any time of day, she couldn’t stay mad at the two of them. If anyone loved their friendship more than them, it was Kenma’s mother. 

She seems to pick up that they aren’t exactly taking her seriously and moved to cross her arms against her chest. Even so, Kenma’s mother knew just as much as they did that it wouldn’t work in her favour. 

“Don’t you two have training camp in the morning?” Her voice is stern, and the boy’s eyes drift to look at each other. She wasn’t wrong, they did have training camp starting tomorrow morning. This seemed to portray the message, and she starts wagging her finger in front of Kuroo’s face, specifically. 

“Now mister captain, you should certainly practise restraint! Take some responsibility,” Kuroo’s grin is back on his face. Kenma looked just as complacent as usual when Kuroo pushed himself up to sit cross legged on the bed. Then he salutes toward Mrs.Kozume. 

“Yes ma’am!” He attempts to make it sound as soldier-like as possible, but it ends up sounding way too forced. Kenma’s mother clasps a hand over her mouth, in an attempt to stop her laughter. Then she waves her hand, dismissing her fake anger. 

“Get some rest, boys,” Both of them nod in agreement as she leaves. They turn to each other and smile, especially when they can hear his mother cackling down the hallway. 

* * *

The first day of training camp always manages to surge excitement through Kuroo. This year was no different, of course. This year Nekoma had been the host of the training camp, meaning that many of the decisions had been organized by Kuroo himself. Of course the coach was the one to finalize these decisions, but much of what Kuroo proposed was accepted without much of a thought. 

One of Kuroo’s favourite things that came along with training camp was seeing the other teams. They were all dispersed in terms of location, meaning it was pretty difficult to plan a meet up with friends from other teams. They all had different schedules and working around class, practice, and any other factor proved to be a hefty task. Training camp was an opportunity to see these people without the pressure of competition. 

This meant Kuroo had the opportunity to see an idiotic spiker, which he (sometimes regretfully) calls his friend. Bokuto was equally excited about this, which was no surprise to Kuroo, Bokuto was much like a dog in that way. Excitable and happy to be praised. 

Kuroo didn’t waste any time when all the teams were accounted for, informing them they would go on a group run. A good warmup before jumping right into practice matches. It also happened to be a good opportunity to catch up with friends while doing something productive. Kuroo took advantage of this, keeping pace with Bokuto. Thankfully, Kuroo would claim this day to be perfect weather. It wasn’t too hot, but it wasn’t cold either. It made running much less exhausting. 

Bokuto spent the first half of their run updating Kuroo on every tiny detail of his life. This included restaurants he dragged Akaashi to, team stories, and his failing grades. Kuroo rebuttals with his own stories, which seem much less interesting in contrast to Bokuto’s. Eventually the stories dwindle, and their left to actually make conversation. While Kuroo is searching for a valuable topic, Bokuto redirects his attention. 

“So what’s up with you and Kenma? You guys are like.. Always together,” Bokuto’s starting to pant from exhaustion now, and Kuroo was happy to know that they were nearing the end of their run by now. Kuroo snaps his head Bokuto’s way, scrunching his brows together. 

“What the hell are you on about now?” Kuroo rolls his eyes, which Bokuto responds to with a delighted grin. He wasn’t exactly wrong, Kuroo knew that much. If one of them was around, it usually meant the other wasn’t too far. Though, it was also clear to Kuroo that Bokuto was digging for a little more than he was letting on. 

“You know what I’m talking about, dude. Whenever he needs something it’s like you planned it weeks in advance,” Kuroo slows to a jog when they near the end, stopping when they’ve reached the spot they originally started from. He hated to admit it, but Bokuto wasn’t wrong. Kuroo was prepared for just about any problem that Kenma could encounter. And if he wasn’t, he could usually figure it out on the fly. Even though he tried to be stealthy about it, it was no surprise that someone managed to catch onto it. Kuroo was only surprised it was Bokuto of all people. He had a hunch this was Akaashi’s doing. 

Kuroo had opened his mouth to say something, but the words were caught in his throat when there was a gentle tugging on his sleeve. Someone trying to draw his attention to them. Kuroo pivoted around to greet the familiar face standing in front of him. Kenma had originally tried to wiggle his way out of the run, and would have been successful, if that wasn’t for the small-fry he’d recently grown close to. He’d had no choice but to go along with the ginger, his begging was starting to draw attention toward him. 

“What’s up Kenma?” Kuroo inquires, his head tilted to the side. Kenma’s hand hadn’t let go of the fabric of his sweater, by now he was squeezing it firmly between his fingers. Kenma didn’t respond to Kuroo, instead he shifted uncomfortably in front of him. Something was bothering him. There was no other explanation for him leaving Hinata alone. Kuroo scanned the environment around him, trying to spot something that might have triggered Kenma. 

When his eyes landed on Karasuno’s setter to the left of them, everything clicked together. Since their first practice game, this Kageyama guy had gained a particular interest in Kenma’s setting. This hadn’t come as much of a shock on Kuroo’s end. Kenma thought quickly on his feet, and employed a lot of tactics that many players wouldn’t have considered. His interest wasn’t the problem in this instance. The problem was that Kageyama’s eyes were trained on Kenma, burning into him. No wonder Kenma felt so uncomfortable. Kuroo sighed, doing his best to refrain from shooting the setter a glare. 

Instead, he would strategize his possible solutions. Kenma wouldn’t have brought his handheld along with him, even if that would have been ideal in a scenario such as this. Luckily Kuroo could think of something on the fly, a talent he’d gotten rather good at. After spending so much time with Kenma, it would have been a shame not to. 

Kuroo got to work on his solution, starting by removing the sweater he was wearing. The friction caused his shirt to hike up ever so slightly, and to mess up his hair. No damage there, it had already been pretty poorly organized against his head. The sweater plopped over Kenma, and Kuroo brought the hood snuggly to his face. Kenma scrunched his face up at Kuroo, being encased in the smell of sweat probably wasn’t how Kenma wanted this day to go. Kuroo would have offered a different solution if he had one, but he was working with what he had.

Not many people were aware of the exact reason Kenma’s hair was so long. A normal assumption would be to say that he simply liked it this way, which was half true. The other reason was to keep his field of vision from being too wide. Kenma was easily overwhelmed when there was too much stimulating him, and the narrow sight path he had made it easier for him to focus. On account of the fact Kuroo’s sweater was much larger on Kenma, the hood created an even smaller window to the world around him. 

The sweater was only one step to Kuroo’s makeshift plan. He took the liberty in shuffling Kenma over to the other side of him, Kenma flashed him a look of hesitance, but trusted him enough to lean into his side. With an arm placed over the other boy’s shoulders, Kageyama's sight of Kenma was virtually nothing. Even if he didn’t stop staring in Kenma's direction, Kenma would have no way to know. 

Lastly, Kuroo dug through his pocket. Around the halfway mark through his run, he’d realized that he’d accidentally brought his phone with him. Ideally, this wouldn’t have happened but by the time he realized its presence it was too late to turn back. When he placed the device in Kenma’s hand, he was thanking himself for being forgetful. The abundance of games littered across his screen were never there for him, he had never touched them. He would never delete them, though. It was times like these that proved that the storage they took up was worth it. 

Satisfied with his work, he directed his attention back to Bokuto. Bokuto’s sly smile told Kuroo everything he needed to know. Right now, he had just proven Bokuto’s statement. Kuroo rolled his eyes again, popping his middle finger up in his direction. There was no shame held in Kuroo. If he could provide assistance to Kenma when it was asked of him, he would. 

* * *

  
  


On the last day of training camp, everyone was tasked with a job in order to make clean up run smoothly. With all the teams that attended, this job was wrapped up rather quickly. Which in turn meant that they could sit back and enjoy their dinner before heading back to their respective schools. Kuroo and Bokuto got assigned to cleaning the main gym, which gave them ample time to enjoy their last meeting before competition time. Sometimes it was hard for the two of them to stay on task, but Akaashi had made sure to deal a pretty gruesome threat. 

The two worked from opposite sides of the gym, mostly yelling things across to each other with bright smiles. Even with their inability to stay on task on time, when it came to impending dinner, the two had a surprising work ethic (maybe encouraged from fear toward Akaashi). It wasn’t long before they were nearing each other, and soon enough they would be done and ready to stuff their faces full. 

“So,” Bokuto pauses, leaning his chin against the broom in his hand, “Some girl from my school asked if I could give her your number, thought I’d ask you first.” 

Kuroo hummed to himself, wondering the validity of the statement. It wasn’t uncommon for Kuroo to receive confessions, which he would politely decline. It wasn’t that he didn’t like girls. Kuroo thought girls were attractive, he just simply wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with them. It piqued curiosity in him that a girl from another school showed interest in him, which had never happened previously. It wasn’t enough curiosity to hand over his phone number, he knew that much. 

“Eh. Not interested, let her down gently for me,” Kuroo states honestly with a shrug of his shoulders. He can hear Bokuto snickering from behind him. Kuroo isn’t exactly sure what’s so funny about the impending rejection of someone, but Bokuto cleared that up fairly quickly to him. 

“Yeah, didn’t think so. I’ll just let her know you’re in love with your best friend,” 

Kuroo’s body twitches at his friend’s comment, he’s not sure why. Embarrassment wouldn’t be the right word, Kuroo was not embarrassed. Rather, it felt like he’d been caught. Someone found him out. He paused for a moment, turning to face Bokuto. Bokuto was staring right at him, he seemed moderately amused with himself. As if he’d made some grand revelation that no one else had been aware of previously. The gears in Kuroo’s head were turning now, finally understanding what Bokuto had been pushing at this whole time. Initially Kuroo simply quirks a brow, trying to plan out his response. 

“What are you on about this time, idiot,” Kuroo’s attempt to play dumb wouldn’t get too far, the damage had already been done. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t aware of this, he knew perfectly well that Bokuto would take this opportunity to spill exactly what he was trying to get out of Kuroo in the first place. 

“Oh come on, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Bokuto moves closer to Kuroo now, cradling his face with his hands, “It’s so obvious you’re into each other, when are you going to confess to Kenma!” 

Bokuto’s comment confirmed that this whole thing was, in fact, Akaashi’s doing. Kuroo reserved his doubts that Bokuto could actually pick up on something like this. Bokuto was great at volleyball, his instincts spoke for themselves. But in the area of romance? Oblivious. Kuroo let out an exhausted sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yeah, no fucking shit,” While Bokuto gaped at him, Kuroo took this as a chance to get back to sweeping. He hoped that this would encourage Bokuto to do the same, they still had a job to finish after all. Silence lingered between them for a while, Kuroo focusing more on the dirt that needed to be taken care of. 

When the job was done to his satisfaction, he threw his head over his shoulder at Bokuto. Thankfully he was looking in his direction at this moment. 

“Look, there’s no need to. Kenma might have trouble picking up on social cues at times, but he’s got me figured out,” Kuroo shrugs again, and Bokuto only nods in response. Kuroo only hopes that was enough of an answer to satisfy his curiosity. 

* * *

The journey back from the training camp was almost good as the initial start. With sore muscles, and exhaustion coursing through every bone in his body, being in his own bed sounded like a dream to Kuroo. He had a feeling Kenma felt the same, and was craving to put the controller of his console back into his hands. Kuroo would need to remind him to get some rest when they got back. 

For now, he would enjoy their train ride. By now the sun was hanging low in the horizon, causing the train to fill with gentle rays of sun. It was warm, and encouraged the tired feeling that was spreading across his whole body. When Kenma’s head hit his shoulder, Kuroo managed a weak smile. Kenma was still clicking away at the buttons of his handheld, but holding his head upright on his own seemed to be a challenge for him now. Kuroo snaked an arm around Kenma’s back, rubbing gentle circles into the fabric between his shoulder blades. 

“Hey Kenma,” Kuroo manages to mutter softly. Not falling asleep was proving to be difficult, but knowing Kenma’s track record, one of them needed to stay alert. Kenma hums in a response, confirming that he is in fact listening to Kuroo. 

“Bokuto was wondering when I was going to confess to you,” The button clicking pauses for a moment, intaking Kuroo’s blunt retelling. When the pause screen shows up on the handheld, Kenma’s face comes into view. He didn’t remove himself from Kuroo’s side. Rather, he would shift so he was looking up to him. 

“Are you going to?” Kenma’s eyes shine in the light, and even through their brightness Kuroo can see the sleep dancing over them. Kuroo shakes his head, lifting a hand to push stray hairs that happened to be hanging over Kenma’s face. 

“Why? You want me to or something?” Usually, this might have come out in a mocking tone. Instead, Kuroo’s voice was calm and soft. Whether it was from being tired, or the serene feeling of being sat next to Kenma in a sun filled train, Kuroo didn’t know. Either way was fine with him, and he was sure Kenma would agree.

Kenma mumbled a ‘no’ so quiet, Kuroo was surprised that he’d even heard it to begin with. Then he was turning back to his game, frantically pressing buttons as if the conversation hadn’t happened. This didn’t upset Kuroo, far from that actually. This was just as it had normally been. Just as he’d told Bokuto, Kenma knew him better than anyone. And he knew Kenma more than anyone else would. It was simple. Confessions screamed redundancy. 

Why state a known fact?

“Didn’t think so,” Was Kuroo’s reply as his head fell atop Kenma’s. 

  
  



End file.
